Death Is But the Next Great Adventure
by girlwithakite
Summary: One shot. Harry has finally found a chance to be happy. SLASH MM HP? Title taken from the books.


Disclaimer: I own none of this that you recognize, and I make no money off of any of this.

Here's a treat (I hope) for people waiting for the next chapter of Tombe. I know it's been taking quite awhile, but I swear I'm working on it. I'm nearly half done with the new chapter. I'm just waiting for a little inspiration. This was rolling around my skull last night and I had to write it out. Cheers!

**Death Is But the Next Great Adventure**

"What do you suppose they'll say once they find my body?'

Low chuckling reached his ears, and the hand carding through his hair stilled. "I can see the headlines now: 'The Boy Who Lived: His Death as Tragic as His Life' or something equally ridiculous." The hand resumed its ministrations and Harry sighed contentedly, relaxing against the knees he was leaning on.

The warmth from the fire was soothing on this December night, and Harry was nearly asleep. "Dumbledore will probably spin some disgustingly sympathetic story about how the Dursleys fooled everyone; that there was no way even he could have known what they'd do," he mumbled, "Especially since I never asked for help."

A hand came up to gently cup his chin, tilting his head so he could look into those mesmerizing eyes. "Harry, that old fool knew exactly what was going on. Those monitoring charms weren't there for nothing, you know. It's not your fault. It never was. How many times have we gone through this, my Little Snake?"

"I know, I know. He just wanted me to suffer so I would be grateful every time he took me to Hogwarts; so I would do whatever he asked of me. It's just difficult, seeing as he was the only person I thought really cared about me." Harry lifted the hand off of his face and stood up, stretching until he heard bones popping and grinning when he heard the frustrated sigh behind him.

"Harry, you know that I hate when you do that. It's absolutely disgusting." Harry turned and smiled cheekily at him, "Why do you think I continue to do it?" He laughed at the resulting growl and leapt nimbly out of the path of the hands that reached for him, then took off down the hall and crouched behind a table when he thought he'd lost his pursuer.

He smiled softly. Who ever would have thought that he would have a soul mate, and that it would be Voldemort of all people? He, Tom, Dumbledore, and Snape were the only people who knew the truth of that damned prophecy. A fake, designed to keep the two most powerful wizards of the century from uniting against Dumbledore, a power hungry tyrant hiding behind the façade of benevolence. Harry's scar? A result of the backfired Avada Kedavra curse, which didn't work only because soul mates apparently cannot kill one another, not because of some illusive 'power.'

What better way to keep them apart than to turn them against each other? Only Snape's guilty conscience had saved them in the end. His love for Harry's mother and his growing guilt over her unnecessary death had prompted him to tell them the truth, something Dumbledore had never anticipated.

They had started meeting in secret and had slowly grown to love one another. They were due to be formally bonded in a few days' time, just after the discovery of Harry's 'dead body,' which was lying in his room at the Dursley's at that very moment. It had been created a few weeks back using a golem born of a blood ritual that had basically cloned him, from his emerald green eyes and messy black hair to his cursed scar.

Tom had given the golem a limited intelligence and then imperioed it, commanding it to antagonize Vernon until he snapped. Harry had asked to be sent back to their house for the holidays, which had pissed him off pretty well to start with. Then he had lost his job and had started drinking quite a lot as a result, so it hadn't taken much. And so the life of Harry James Potter had come to an end. The room had been charmed to lock as soon as the golem had died, so Vernon wouldn't be able to get in and clean up the evidence. Once a few days had passed without Harry sending a letter to the Order, they'd show up looking for him. And they'd get quite a surprise.

Once people lost faith in Dumbledore, Voldemort would reappear to the Wizarding World with his mate by his side. A glamour and an alias would allow Harry to rule with Voldemort without suspicion once they swayed the Wizarding World to their cause. No one would be the wiser, and they could finally have the life they'd both been denied since they were children.

A hand encircling his wrist brought him out of his musings and an "I've got you now, Potter," whispered close to his ear made him shiver. "And what are you going to me with me now that you finally have me in your clutches, Voldemort?" He asked, his voice low. Tom pulled Harry flush against his chest and pressed his lips to Harry's throat. "What if I said I was going to carry you upstairs and have my wicked way with you?" Harry gasped as warm breath ghosted across his sensitive skin and nearly moaned his response: "I'd ask what you were waiting for."


End file.
